


forget-me-not

by earpslgbt



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Mention of Panic Attacks, soft wynonna, very sad nicole, very scared baby waverly, waverlys not a stone in the garden !, wynonna just wants to PROTECT HER GIRLS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earpslgbt/pseuds/earpslgbt
Summary: She watches Waverly take a step back from her, her breathing laboured and fear stricken. Her eyes dart around, spooked, like shes trying to work something out, and she looks at Nicole - really looks at her - for the first time, and her head begins to shake.“I’m- I’m so sorry,” she begins, her voice wavering with panic, “But, I have no idea who you are.”or the one where Waverly is saved from the garden, but she has no memory of the most important people in her life.





	1. tell the world im coming home

**Author's Note:**

> hola my babies! so im back, and this time imma actually finish this fic because im so inspired and motivated for it!! i love writing sad characters even if im not too brilliant at it!! brief warning there are mentions of a panic attack in this chapter but nothing too much, so if thats not your thing then pls stay safe and dont read!!!!
> 
>  anyways ive been missing wearp a lot recently and thought i needed a new project to keep me motivated till dom pc returns from the woods!
> 
> issa short one but i just wanted to put the feelers out for it i guess nd i promise oncoming chapters will be longer!! ok i love u all nd i hope u like it ?? even though its sad ?? oh well

Waverly’s back. Somehow, miraculously, Wynonna brought her back.

Nicole thinks that she still looks as perfect as the day she left, three months ago, and every bone in her body aches to run to her, to snatch her up and cover her in kisses and never let her go again. She didn’t realise quite how hard life without Waverly would be, until it was her only reality. God, even Wynonna had kept herself in better check than she had. Nicole can’t remember the last time she went to sleep without tears in her eyes and the smell of cheap whiskey on her breath. What she does remember - however - was clutching Waverly’s shawl, every night. Holding it desperately tight to her chest as if it was the last part of Waverly that she would ever get to hold; because during those long, lonely, and hopeless nights, it seemed like it would be. 

Nicole doesn’t remember much from the past three months; without Waverly, everything seemed pointless. She had barely showered, barely ate, but she was pretty sure she recalled Wynonna sliding a cupcake across the table, at one point; a singular lit candle in it, flickering like the final flames of hope that they would ever get their girl back. She remembers Wynonna, with tears in her eyes, whispering, “look, haught. i know how you’re feeling, well, i mean i don’t, but i get it. i wouldn’t know how to have a birthday without her. i, i wouldn’t even know where to begin. and i know i can't fix this, i can’t make this day special for you or make it suck less. but nicole, you’re not on your own, we’re all here with you, and i know it’s not much, but happy birthday haught. i promise you, we’ll get her back.” and Nicole remembers making a wish, as she half heartedly blew the candle out. She recalls one word, one name, as the dancing flame disappeared; Waverly.

And her wish had came true; Waverly is standing there, shaking and dazed, and she can’t help the weight that lifts from her shoulders as she runs to her, tears trickling down her cheeks. She doesn’t even give the brunette time to speak, before pulling her into her arms in a desperate attempt to make sure this isn’t the same dream she’s had every night since Waverly had gone. She smells the faint strawberry smell that had always radiated from the younger girl, and she can feel her comforting warmth against her skin and Nicole sobs, because this is real. This is waverly and she’s safe, she’s home and her fingers clutch desperately at the shorter girl as if she’s the only thing tethering her to the ground right now. Maybe she is, Waverly has always been the one to keep her grounded and the ethereal joy she feels right now could send her floating if it weren’t for her girlfriend in her arms. She can hear Wynonna sniffling in the background, and she feels jeremy’s smile on her back, and she breathes out, a soft sigh of relief. Their fight is over; they have their girl back.

But Waverly pulls back, hesitantly, panicked eyes searching Nicole’s face, and she knows. Something is still seriously wrong. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, and she feels like she might throw up as she watches Waverly take a step back from her, her breathing laboured and fear stricken. Her eyes dart around, spooked, like shes trying to work something out, and she looks at Nicole - really looks at her - for the first time, and her head begins to shake.

“I’m- I’m so sorry,” she begins, her voice wavering with panic, “But, I have no idea who you are.” 

And suddenly, Nicole can’t breathe. She hears herself start to talk, she thinks she’s just repeating the word ‘no’ over and over again, but her mind is foggy, and Wynonna is dragging her away before her reaction scares Waverly anymore. She knows she’s crying, she can feel the dampness running down her face, but she can’t bring herself to wipe it, so she let’s the tears create a mist over her eyes, and her head starts spinning. She thinks Wynonna is talking to her, but she can’t be sure. She knows she’s blurting out random things; like “waverly,” and “she’s- I’m- wynonna-” but she can’t completer her sentences, and her heart is hammering and she thinks this might be how she dies. 

“Nicole, listen to me. You’re having a panic attack, it’s okay. You’re alright.” she hears Wynonna whisper, pulling her into a hug.

“But- Waverly, I don’t-”

She feels Wynonna nod, a hand coming down to stroke her hair. Wynonna had dealt with countless panic attacks whilst Waverly was gone. She had prided herself in learning just how to help Nicole, because as much as she’ll never admit it, she cares about her, with all of her heart. It had always been, and continued to be their thing; Nicole pretends she wouldn’t die for Wynonna, and Wynonna pretends she wouldn’t die for Nicole. It’s a silent, unspoken agreement, that is broken only on the darkest of nights or the most hopeless days, when one of their hearts had shattered, and they admitted defeat. Wynonna knows how to be vulnerable with Nicole now, to cry with her and be truly human around her, and she thinks Nicole’s started to learn the same. So she lets herself fall into the comfort, even with Waverly there. She waits until Nicole can breathe again, and she tells her she’ll be back in a moment.

Her feet take her straight to Waverly, even if she had planned to get Nicole water from Shorty's across the street. She stops, looking down at her little sister, who looked so frightened, so vulnerable and suddenly she felt like the wrong person to be helping her. This was her sister, but she’d never felt like such a stranger. 

“Waverly?” she finds herself asking, an almost desperate edge to her voice. Waverly looks up, properly, the sparkle in her eye that Wynonna loved so much, gone. She watches as her sister searches her face, her brows furrowing slightly as she tilts her head.

“Wynonna?” she responds, and Wynonna can’t help the relief that floods her body. She feels immediately guilty, as she hears Nicole sob quietly behind her. She knows Jeremy is hugging her, but her legs twitch and her brain tells her not to do this. Not in front of Nicole, not when Waverly seems to have no idea who she is. 

“Wave, how- how much do you remember about me?” A small part of her hopes to god that waverly doesn’t remember muhc, so it stings less for Nicole. But the rational part needs her to remember something, anything that can help her fix this. 

“N-Nothing. You’re my sister, i know that. I don’t know how I know that,” Waverly's voice becomes panicked again, and she’s close to shouting as her eyes fill with tears. “Wynonna, how do I know that? Why don’t I know anything else? Please, what’s happening to me, Nonna?” 

She’s sobbing, and Wynonna doesn’t know what to do. She’s never seen Waverly this scared; not even when they were little and daddy would scream in her face for something that wasn’t her fault. Not even on the day that Willa was taken. She’d seen the panic before, when Nicole was bitten by the widows, but the lingering and overwhelming fear? That was something else. She’s scared too, that this is permanent, that something happened to her baby sister in that garden, but she pushes it down, and stamps on it. This is not her turn to be frightened. She grabs her sister, and envelops her in a bear hug; the kind she used to give her when she was a little girl, and crawled into her bed in the middle of the night because she was scared of the thunder. She hopes it brings something back, and there are tears flooding her eyes as she rubs her sister’s back. 

“Wyn, who is that? Why does she feel so important to me?”

She feels Waverly nod towards Nicole, tears still dripping off her face, and she shakes her head, mouth open to reply. She clamps it shut quickly, when she realises there is nothing she can say. She can’t tell Waverly who Nicole is yet, in case it freaks her out and she runs. Then again, Waverly isn’t the sibling that runs when things get too difficult. She strokes her sisters hair, sighing and looks back at Nicole who is sat on the curb, refusing to look in the direction of Waverly. 

“That’s Nicole, babygirl. She is - was - important to you, but I’m gonna help you find your way back to her, I swear.”


	2. sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We were close, before all of this happened.” Nicole concludes.
> 
> “Like- like best friends?” Waverly queries. 
> 
> Or, the chapter where Nicole tries to make it better, but instead makes it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hola my dudes! 
> 
> so this chapter isn’t like /a lot/ in terms of storyline, tbh this is just me making Nicole even more sad and waverly even more confused!!! 
> 
> Turns out her memory might b worse than we thought yIKES! 
> 
> our real storyline starts next chapter n we’ll see more of how Waverly is doing :))))

Waverly was perched, almost awkwardly on the sofa of the homestead, looking a bit lost. Her hands clasped in her lap, and her leg bouncing nervously, as if she had never sat on that exact sofa before. Nicole had stood back in the kitchen, giving the younger girl some space. She could feel wynonna and jeremy staring, eyes darting between her and waverly; not knowing quite what to do. She couldn’t stop thinking about the last time she had seen Waverly sat on that sofa, her head in Nicole’s lap as she stroked her hair. She remembers Waverly was reading something, and every so often, she would giggle, or look up and just stare at Nicole for a second, her eyes full of adoration. 

But that was long gone, replaced with only fear and confusion as she looked at the taller woman. The love, and the warmth that had once filled her eyes had drained, and Nicole found she couldn’t breathe everytime she accidentally made eye contact with the girl that was once the love of her life. 

The mug in her hand trembled as she shoved those memories down, her eyes boring into waverly, welling up every now and then. The tension in the room was palpable, and the longer Nicole stared at the brunette, the more uneasy she grew. Wynonna and Jeremy had gone back to some ancient texts, trying to figure out how to fix this and mummering together softly, but Nicole couldn't move. She was rooted to the spot, tapping her fingernails against Waverly's favourite china mug, unable to pull her eyes away from the beautiful girl sat on the sofa. She ached to say something, anything, but her mind rang up blank. There was nothing to say; so she remained silent, instead, committing the way the evening sun flooded in, and highlighted the honey gold in Waverly’s hair, to memory. 

“D’ya think- is it possible, y’know? To get her back? To get my baby sister back properly?” Nicole heard Wynonna ask, almost nervously. 

“We can only try our best.” Jeremy replied, a hint of sadness in his voice, and Nicole’s heart sank deeper into the pit of her stomach. She’d never heard Jeremy sound so uncertain.

“Jeremy, please. That’s my sister. Look at her, she’s so scared and- fuck- Haught will never get over this if-” Wynonna’s voice fades into white noise, and Nicole finds herself moving towards Waverly, unable to stop the inevitable pull between them. The inevitable, unstoppable force that connects the two of them, Nicole thinks, is what makes sure their souls are intertwined, in every universe. Why should this be any different? But it is, and Nicole feels it; this is beyond fates control. Waverly forgetting her was at the hands of heaven itself, and she can’t stop the echoing of her mother's voice, when she first came out to her, “you’ll never find love if you choose to be like that. It’s hell bound.” 

She can’t help but feel like maybe this is how it was meant to be. Waverly had always been too good for her; maybe this was the universe finally saying a huge ‘screw you,’ and taking the only good thing in her life away.

But Waverly is the only thing she’s ever been sure about, the only thing that has ever made her feel alive; loved, safe. So, she thinks - moving closer to the sofa and sitting down gently on the end, away from Waverly - screw what the universe wants. This is the love of her life, and for once, she refuses to let go of the things that make her happy. 

She feels Waverly flinch a little as she sits down, and makes sure there’s space between them, even if each centimeter of distance rips at her, threatening to tear her heart right open. She doesn’t force it; god, she would never do anything to make her baby uncomfortable, and instead she just sits, enjoying whatever closeness she can get from the younger girl. It’s not enough, not by far. She wants to press herself against Waverly, fold herself into her, so they never have to be apart again, but she can’t. So, she doesn’t. Rather, she finds herself looking at the brunette, and asking gently, 

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” She knows it’s silly, but she also knows that when Waverly’s sick, or upset, if Nicole just puts on one specific movie, she could get her laughing that beautiful laugh again. Maybe that’s what she needs to fill this cold, hollow hole in her stomach; Waverly’s warm, endearing laugh. 

Waverly looks at her, aghast for a moment, before she blinks hastily and nods. Of course, she does. She was - after all - still Nicole’s Waverly, deep down there, somewhere. 

“Can we watch-” waverly begins, her voice soft and questioning, but Nicole finishes the sentence for her; a force of habit.

“The princess bride? Of course.”

Waverly’s face changes, and her melancholy energy drops into that of complete and utter elation. She almost bounces in her chair, and finally turns to look at Nicole, a sparkle in her eyes, before realising who she was with, and settling almost awkwardly. 

“Yeah, I-I love that film,” she smiles gently, playing nervously with her hands.

“I know you do. You're just a sucker for the happy ending. Makes you cry every time.” Nicole smiles, gently, her heart soaring at Waverly’s sudden enthusiasm. But her face drops as Waverly shifts a little bit further away from her, sitting on her hands to stop herself from fidgeting, anxiously. 

“You’re right, it-it does.. How do you know that?” she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Her lips form the slightest puzzled pout that Nicole just wanted to kiss away, and her heart almost stops when she realises she can’t just do that anymore. 

“We- we were close. Before all of this happened.” Nicole concludes, deciding to leave it at that before she goes off on some tangent about how they weren’t just close. Waverly had been the piece missing from Nicole, her whole life, she had been the warm yellow light; the one thing that truly completed her. But the words stay lodged in her throat, and she almost chokes on them as Waverly nods, pretending she understands what that’s supposed to mean.

“Like, best friends?” Waverly queries, her head tilting in a way that makes her look like a confused puppy and Nicole physically feels her heart melt, and shatter at the same time. Friends? God. She felt the same feeling in her stomach that she did when Waverly said, “maybe just friends?” over a year ago. 

“Sure, uh- something like that.” she mutters, and gets up to grab the remote. She feels Waverly’s eyes on her, and she tries not to shiver as her gaze burns. Normally, she’d go back, and sit as close to her girlfriend as she could possibly get, hands intertwined, and Waverly’s head on her shoulder. Now, she sits down and there’s empty space separating them, and Nicole notes it, pushing down tears.

Waverly watches the film in relative silence, and Nicole can’t help the longing, worried gazes that she shoots Waverly’s way throughout. She knows Waverly can see her staring, but she can’t help it. She’s just so beautiful, and every part of Nicole calls out for her; to hold her, kiss her, just touch her. But she doesn’t, because Waverly is scared and Waverly is confused and Nicole would never want to add to that. 

“Why do you keep staring at me?”  
She hears her ask, eventually; a sad sort of longing in her voice. Nicole feels her throat close up again, there’s nothing she can say. 

“I just- sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or anything. I- I just missed you.” 

She feels Waverly shift, and before she knows it, she’s sat close to her, their thighs pressed up against each other and suddenly Nicole doesn’t know how to breathe. She feels Waverly’s hair tickling her shoulder, and she feels her breath on her shoulder and it feels normal. Like home.  
She feels Waverly’s hand on her cheek, turning her face to look at her and the world almost stops. Waverly’s touching her again, almost like she knows who nicole is. Almost like she loves her.

“Your eyes. They- they feel familiar. Like my favourite hot chocolate on a cold day, but obviously it has to be the-“

“Vegan hot chocolate.” Nicole finishes, her eyes darting to Waverly’s lips. She feels Waverly take a deep breath, a pink tongue running over her lips, conscious of Nicole’s gaze. They’re so close that if Nicole just leaned down a little, their lips would touch. But she can’t, and she knows it. Her hands tingle where they’re planted firmly in her own lap, trying not to reach for Waverly. Waverly is staring at her, her own hands coming together to fiddle awkwardly again.

“See?” She whispers, sitting back against the edge of the sofa, away from Nicole. “You know me, like you really know me. And somewhere, I think I know you. But- but I don’t know how. Somehow I- I think you’re kind of special,”

And Nicole can’t help but chuckle weakly at that, a watery laugh that matches the tears welling in her eyes. She needs Waverly to remember; she can’t do this, for God’s sake. She can’t watch the love of her life slip away from her, memory by memory. 

“Yeah, lesbian not a unicorn.” She mutters, scoffing bitterly, the memories stinging her skin as she says the words. She hangs her head, biting her lip to stop anymore useless words escaping her. 

She feels Waverly take a breath, but it’s shaky and teary; she looks up and her heart breaks as she notices the tear running down her girlfriends face. 

“What does that even mean? I- God, I can’t do this. I’m so sorry, I have to go.” 

Waverly’s heart aches so terribly. She knows the redhead; she knows that, somewhere deep down. She feels safe, like home, but Waverly doesn’t know why, and it’s terrifying; to feel like a prisoner in her own brain.

So she runs. For the first time, she’s never felt more like an Earp; running when things are tough. 

Nicole tries to grab her hand, get her to stay. She hears Wynonna yell her name, but the front door slams, and she’s running. She doesn’t know where she’s going, but it’s all too much and there’s too many people and she wants out. She feels her sister and Nicole trying to come after her, but she runs faster, her feet taking her in a direction she’s sure she has walked before but is simply a distant memory now. 

She runs, and runs and runs, until her legs are shaking and her heart is beating out of her chest and then she stops. Her eyes flicker around the town, around the cobbled streets, to the police station on the corner, the cafe down the road; and she sobs. 

 

She remembers none of it.


	3. My heart could be yours, won't you make it your home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there was nothing. No click, no magic, just an empty head and an ache in her chest where her heart should be. She feels empty, hollow, like somethings missing from her, but there’s nothing she can do to get it back. She looks around, her head thumping.
> 
> There’s a bar at the end of the street that calls to her attention, and she finds she’s walking towards it before she has a chance to think about it. 
> 
> or the chapter where waverly makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hola babies! sorry that i didnt update last week, things were uhh not great but heres a short update. its not great but life has been kicking my butt lately!! 
> 
> ill be back to normal soon, thank u for ur love n comments!!!
> 
> all the love in the world, i hope u like this chapter and i hope you like,,, zoe :)

Everything was too much; Nicole, Wynonna, the streets that seemed like nothing but a vaguely familiar blur. It was like she couldn’t breathe, everything that confused her sat on her chest like a weight, heavy and lingering. Every time she tried to remember something - like why Nicole’s touch on her skin felt like it burned - her brain would freeze; stop working like something had blocked the train with her memories aboard it. 

 

The wind was bitter against her cheeks as she stood in the street, waiting for something to click, like magic. She’d seen films about stuff like this, where someone would lose certain parts of their memories and see something and everything would click. She remembers seeing it in a book, when she was younger and daddy was drinking, so she cowered under her covers, reading by torchlight. 

But there was nothing. No click, no magic, just an empty head and an ache in her chest where her heart should be. She feels empty, hollow, like somethings missing from her, but there’s nothing she can do to get it back. She looks around, her head thumping.

There’s a bar at the end of the street that calls to her attention, and she finds she’s walking towards it before she has a chance to think about it. 

‘Shortys’ she thinks, her brows furrowing as she looks up at the sign, ‘i know this place.’ 

Her heart leaps a little at the brief recognition. She might not understand why it’s important, but she knows deep down that it is. 

She finds herself pushing the heavy door open before she can even think about it, and she’s immediately hit with the smell of old beer, and sandalwood; the noise of drunk locals assaulting her senses. The bar was polished and shining and Waverly’s head was spinning.  
This place was safe, she knew that. There was something right about this place, familiar. She stood there, saying nothing, doing nothing; hoping for that click, that magic. 

“Y’alright? Waverly?”

She hears someone call her name, but it’s distant, like her ears are clogged. Her mind is racing, with flashes of a man with a moustache and a cowboy hat behind the bar. There’s a foggy picture of a girl with a ponytail and thigh high boots too, and she swears she hears a baby crying when she looks at the pool table across the room. She turns, suddenly face to face with a girl; a girl she’s sure she’s seen before. Her shirt says ‘shortys’ on it and Waverly’s mine starts swimming. She remembers Shorty; she remembers that he died and her heart breaks again like it did when her passed the first time. She doesn’t remember how he died, but she knows it left her hollow. she knows used to own the shirt that the girl is wearing too, she used to work here. God, that’s why it feels so important. She understand that things happened in this bar, things that changed the course of her history, of her sisters history, but she can’t quite recall any of it properly. There’s gun fights, and arguments and smashed glasses and Chinese takeout eaten with a knife but it’s flickers and flashes and her ears are ringing. 

The girl, - she thinks her name might be Zoe - but she can’t be sure, smiles at her gently. She had been talking, Waverly thinks, but she wasn’t listening. She looks at her, really looks at her and frowns. It’s a vague memory, but she thinks she remembers this girl starting at shortys the day after Waverly quit. She was all soft skin, and auburn curls that drew Waverly in; she had always had a thing for red hair. 

“Waverly? Everything okay?”  
She feels the girl place a hand on her arm, her other hand carrying a drinks tray.

“I- uh. Yeah.”

“You sure? I haven’t seen you in a while, I kinda thought you’d left. I was always too scared to ask Wynonna about you, she’s really scary, but I always used to see you come in here with your- your uh... you know. But I haven’t for a few months so I figured-“

Waverly nods, not fully listening. She breathes in, releasing through her mouth. Everything feels wrong, and too much. She barely knew this girl to start with, let alone with her memory turning to absolute shit.

“Waverly? Are you sure you’re okay?”

She turns, quickly to look at the girl, sighing.

“Yeah, sorry. You’re- you’re Zoe, right?” 

The girls face falls for a second, before a forced smile makes its way onto her lips, a hint of rejection in her eyes.

“Yeah, Zoe Bennett. I started here, just after you left? I’m the girl with the dog you always stop to pet?”

 

“Right,” Waverly nods, a vague picture of a brown and white fluffy dog clouding her mind. But her face must look blank, because Zoe scoffs slightly.

“I used to serve you, every time you came in her with your friends?”

Waverly pretends to know, and nods. “Of course. Sorry, I’ve just- it’s been a hectic day.” 

Zoe nods, gently, her hand stroking up and down Waverly’s arm in what’s meant to be comforting. 

“I get it, it’s alright. Well, I’m glad you’re still around. Lemme know if you ever want to- you know- hang out sometime.”

Waverly nods, a small smile gracing her lips. Zoe was the first person so far to make her feel normal, like maybe things could be okay again. She wasn’t trying to make her remember stuff, and she wasn’t trying to make her feel anything or push stuff onto her that she didn’t understand. Maybe hanging out with her wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Yeah, that- that would be nice.”

She watches Zoe’s face light up, and has to keep from furrowing her brow in confusion. 

“Really? Wait, but- but what about Officer Haught?” Zoe asks gently, almost nervously as if she’s not sure she should bring it up. 

Waverly can’t help it then, her browns do furrow in confusion and she shakes her head.

“What- what about her? What does she have to do with us hanging out?”

“Wouldn’t she hate it?”

Waverly frowns, her heart thumping with anxiety. 

“I don’t know. Why does that matter? Why do I care what she thinks?”

She doesn’t understand why Zoe smirks and nods knowingly, but she goes with it anyway.

“Oh, I get it. That’s how it is with you guys now? Been there, done that, won’t bring it up again. Well, good for you, Waverly. Always knew you could do better. Give me a call.”

 

She pulls a card out of her pocket, and shoves it into Waverly’s hand, closing her fist over it. Waverly pretends to know what Zoe’s talking about, and nods, watching as she walks away with a wink over her shoulder. 

Waverly doesn’t know why she feels guilty that she enjoys the flirting a little bit. She doesn’t understand the pit at the bottom of her stomach, so she looks at the card, and sighs.

Maybe this will make things seem normal for a while. Starting over; making new friends. 

She slips the card in her pocket, and makes a silent promise to give her a call, even if there is a sinking feeling in her stomach. She spots a flash of Zoe’s ginger curls, and tries to ignore how much it reminds her of Nicole.


	4. a world alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nicole’s just trying to help, babygirl.”
> 
> “I know,” she sniffs, her eyes darting to the corner of the picture frame poking out from under the pillow, “tell her i’m sorry. It’s just a lot.”
> 
> Wynonna nods, and Waverly sees the sadness in her eyes, but she chuckles, watery and low, shaking her head.
> 
> “Tell her yourself, numbnuts. You might not be doing great up there, but i think you remember i’m not your servant, right?” 
> 
> or, the chapter where something clicks, and Waverly isn't loving it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so so so very late and so so so very sorry. 
> 
> the truth is, i got very insecure about this fic, and when i get insecure about what i create, i stop creating it. 
> 
> but some of you lovely people commented asking for an update, and i just felt so guilty so i wrote this. it's not wonderful, and i've lost where i wanted to go with the story but i'm changing it around in my head and hoping for the best.
> 
> thank you for your continued support, it really means the world. i hope this isn't the absolute pile of steaming dog doo-doo that i think it is, but if so, im sorry and i will be back in the swing of it eventually. 
> 
>  
> 
> all my love for each of you! have a great day, be nice humans and remember to #fightforwynonna 
> 
> if you want me, more actively, my twitter is @earpslgbt. it's just my gay screaming about dominique.

Nicole had always been one to feel guilt. Whether she had stood on a bug, when she was little, or like that time she accidentally broke her aunts favourite vase. She wasn’t the type of person that could stay quiet about her guilt, either. She just talked and talked until she wished more than anything that she could just shut up. That’s what she found herself doing, ranting at Wynonna about how Waverly running is her fault. Wynonna is trying her cell phone for the hundredth time, and Nicole knows she’s not listening but she also doesn’t care. 

She should be out looking for Waverly. Poor, sweet little Waverly who knows nothing about who she is right now. Who could get into all sorts of fucked up situations with no idea what to do and suddenly Nicole’s head is spinning and she has to sit down before she passes out at the thought of what could happen to Waverly. What might have happened to her, up there in the garden. 

She’s about ready to bolt out the door, run around any place she can think of that might have called to her girl, when the door opens. It’s slow, and gentle and Nicole’s heart lift because she knows. She knows that it’s Waverly; she’s come home. She looks calmer, a little more collected and Nicole breathes easier. Wynonna had already made a beeline for her, before Nicole could tell her to just stop for one freaking minute and give Waverly some goddamn space. Wynonna’s arms wrap around the small brunette, and Nicole sees the way she visibly tenses. She might understand that Wynonna is her sister, but that doesn’t mean she’s ready for the whole love and affection that everyone is so ready to throw at her. 

“Wyn, hey,” Nicole coughs out Wynonna’s name, grabbing her attention. She widens her eyes and gestures her head, telling her to skedaddle sooner rather than later. 

“It’s fine. She’s fine. You don’t need to tell her what to do.” 

The power in Waverly’s voice shakes Nicole. She hasn’t heard her sound like that since, well, since before. Before she was ripped away from her. It’s like the bossy little Waverly that Nicole really knows and loves and Nicole almost trips over herself trying to understand where the confidence has come from.

“I’m- okay. Are you alright? I didn’t mean to frighten you, earlier. I just- this is-”

“Hard?” Waverly supplies, bitterness leaking into her voice, tilting her head like a lost puppy. “Yeah, news flash, it’s hard for me too. So can you just, god, lay off a bit? I don’t even know who you are! And everything you say just makes my head hurt, because you’re important and i keep thinking about you and i have no fucking idea why. So just- just leave me alone, control freak.”

Before Nicole can even move her lips to say a word, Waverly has stormed off upstairs, to the room that Wynonna had said was hers. Nicole felt the tears drop down her chin before she registered anything else. The words hit her like a ton of bricks, crashing into her and winding her. She felt sick to her stomach, like she was ruining this before it could ever really start. The words control freak leave a bitter taste in her mouth, and she shivers, remembering Rosita, remembering the fact that Waverly doesn’t remember her, and the stupid voice in the back of her head screams, you just weren’t important enough to her. 

\--

 

The bedroom Waverly runs to doesn’t feel like hers; it feels like she’s camping out in some strangers bedroom. The duvet is soft and untouched, the curtains light and open like nobody has been in here for years. She thinks, briefly, maybe nobody had been, but she sees clothes hung on the wardrobe door, and a post it note left on the mirror that says, ‘be back at eight, baby. Breakfast is downstairs. x’ She doesn’t think the clothes are hers, no, they’re too big, and surely she’d have at least some recollection of being a police officer? 

She sits on the bed, tears in her eyes and wonders what side she usually slept on. Did she sleep alone? Was the other side of the bed left cold and vacant throughout her life, or did she share it with some man? If so, where is he? 

Her head pounds at the very thought, a sick feeling rising in her stomach at the thought of herself falling asleep next to a man she likely didn’t love. The last person she remembers dating was Champ in high school, but it’s fuzzy and all she recalls is tears, and burning hot anger. She doesn’t remember romance, or love. She thinks it ended in her last year of high school, but she’s not sure. She wonders if she’d ever had any real love in her life, but she just doesn’t remember. She likes to think she’d remember true love. 

Her hands twitch at the duvet, and she, for some reason, thinks back to Nicole; how horrible she had been to her, without even knowing why. It’s funny - she thinks - how angry not knowing herself and her life has made her. She recalls, vaguely, as a little girl wanting to forget everything about herself. To forget her last name, forget her daddy dying, to forget mama leaving. But now, those are the only things she remembers, and the licks of pain burning at her sides feel like hope. Hope that if she can remember those things, those horrible, cruel things, she can remember everything else.

She looks around, aimlessly, praying that something will spark and everything will click into place. Instead, she arrives at more questions; whose clothes are they? who is the note to, and from? When was the picture of her, Wynonna and Gus hanging on her wall taken? Where is Gus? 

She squeezes her fingernails into her palm, hard enough to draw blood. She remembers doing that as a little girl, whenever daddy used to shout at her. She used to think she deserved the stinging it caused, and now she knows she does, because she’s stupid, stupid, stupid and her stupid brain can’t remember a thing. 

Her eyes fall on the bedside table as she sits, trapped in her own head and her breath catches in her throat at the picture resting in the middle of it.

It’s of her. And Nicole. 

And Nicole is sat behind her, with her arms wrapped around her shoulders, placing a kiss to the side of her head. Waverly picks the frame up, gently, her fingers skirting around her own face. She looked so happy. 

Nicole looks so carefree, and beautiful.

Beautiful. She thinks Nicole is beautiful, and Nicole is kissing her in that picture and Nicole is wearing a police shirt and there’s that note on the mirror calling someone ‘baby’ and Nicole is-

She’s interrupted as someone knocks, rather violently, on her bedroom door. 

She shoves the picture under the pillow in a panic, unsure of what to do. If she’s put the pieces together properly then that means that she and Nicole were - well. Her heart pounds as she hears her own strangled voice telling the person to come in. she hopes to god it’s not Nicole, because the photograph under the pillow feels like a bomb, ready to explode at any second with the way Waverly is fretting over it. Nicole hadn’t wanted her to know about whatever they were, but god, she couldn’t understand why. 

Wynonna sits beside her, a wide distance apart, and Waverly can tell she’s been crying. Wynonna never used to cry. Not when daddy died, or when Willa was taken. She didn’t even cry that time daddy broke her wrist after he got too drunk. She hates that she remembers these things, and she looks to her big sister, tears welling in her own eyes. 

“Nicole’s just trying to help, babygirl.”

“I know,” she sniffs, her eyes darting to the corner of the picture frame poking out from under the pillow, “tell her that i’m sorry. It’s just a lot.”

Wynonna nods, and Waverly sees the sadness in her eyes, but she chuckles, watery and low, shaking her head.

“Tell her yourself, numbnuts. You might not be doing great up there, but i think you remember i’m not your servant, right?” 

Wynonna’s joke falls flat, on deaf ears as Waverly stares at the pillowcase. She wants to ask Wynonna, so desperately. Her hands itch to grab the frame and shove it into her sisters lap whether Nicole wants Waverly to know or not. Her heart aches to know, and she almost can’t breathe from the weight of it all.

So she grabs it, thrusts it into Wynonna’s eyeline and sighs, soft and shakily.

“She’s kissing me, Wyn. and- and those are her clothes. In my bedroom. i think. And that- that note,” she points to the mirror with a shaky hand, “i think that was her. I think she left that for me. So tell me,” she’s crying now, she can feel the tears dripping into her shirt, but she continues, her voice wavering and a little angry, “tell me that i’m not going crazy here. Who is she, to me? Honestly?” 

Wynonna’s a little taken back, a little bewildered and she stares, blankly at the picture in her sisters hand.

“She- Nicole is- you guys were-”

Waverly nods, not needing to hear the end of the sentence, hot angry tears spilling onto her face. She tries to form words, but comes up mute, with only the voice in her head screaming, I’m not gay. I’m not gay.

She thinks maybe Nicole and her were just close. Too close. 

But the note and the clothes and the picture says otherwise, and as she stares at it in her hand, she swears she can feel the ghost of where Nicole’s lips once rested ever so gently on her body.


End file.
